


Helium

by luxuriousvoyage11



Category: Figure Skating RPF
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-04-18
Updated: 2018-04-18
Packaged: 2019-04-24 12:38:00
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,173
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14355672
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/luxuriousvoyage11/pseuds/luxuriousvoyage11
Summary: Tessa and Scott's journey throughout 2007-2013.





	Helium

**Author's Note:**

> Inspired by Sia's "Helium"

_I’m trying but I keep falling down_

_I cry out but nothing comes now_

_I’m giving my all and I know peace will come_

_I never wanted to need someone_

 

2007 

“Tess, are you sure you’re okay?” Scott asks her for the 3rd time during their morning practice. 

She had been having trouble all morning, gripping his arm tightly when they first stepped on the ice to tensing before practicing their rotational lifts to requesting five minutes to abandon her skates and stretch out her legs. 

“Yes, I’m sorry,” she squeaks out, “I just need a second.”

She’s off the ice and untying her skates in a flash, a look of relief on her face as she pushes down on her shin. Scott watches from afar before joining her on the bench, observing her silently. 

She lets out a tiny, almost inaudibly whimpers as she pushes down on one particular spot and Scott can’t take it anymore.

“Are you hurt, T?”

Her head snaps to the side and she shakes her head, an unreadable expression on her face.

“What? No!” she says, letting out a humorless laugh, “I think I’m just sore from this week, it’s been intense.” 

And that it has, but still, he just doesn’t feel right about it.

“Are you sure?”

“Positive,” she says, grabbing her skates to put them on again, “let’s go!” 

She gets up a few moments later and just her feet touching the ground make her hiss out in pain, tears gathering in the back of her eyes. Scott reaches out to steady her but she pulls her arm away, determined to prove she’s 100% okay.

Because she is.

There’s nothing wrong; she’s a young, thriving athlete and she’s okay. 

They practice for three more hours and Tessa makes the drive back to her house in tears with the same mantra repeating in her head while her cramping shins burn. 

“I’m okay, there’s nothing wrong.” 

“I’m okay, there’s nothing wrong.” 

 

_Yeah, I wanted to play tough_

_Thought I could do all just on my own_

_But even superwoman sometimes needed superman’s soul_

_Help me out of this hell_

 

2008

Turns out, there was a whole lot wrong; Chronic Exertional Compartment Syndrome, to be exact. The pain had become too much to bear and she finally, finally accepted the fact that she needed to at least get it checked. It felt like only a few doctor’s visits before she was thrown into the ultimatum of surgery versus retirement and that’s how she found herself sitting in her mom’s living room in recovery while Scott was still training in Michigan.

“I’m gonna do the surgery,” she had told him one night over dinner. He had hugged her and kissed her cheek and praised her for her relentless training and positive attitude. 

But then a month went by and they hadn’t even spoken once. At first, she didn’t even notice - too preoccupied with crying and sleeping and eating whenever and whatever she wanted; but then Alma came by with more flowers and chocolates and that’s when the sadness and anger really took over. 

“A part of me did this for him, mom, so we could still skate together and he just forgets about me!” she cried one night at 2 a.m., “how could he do this?” Kate stroked her daughter’s hair as she quietly sobbed, wiping her own tears with the knuckle of her pointer finger. 

She lost track of how many times her finger hovered over the call button or erased a lengthy text message for him; and then, the one time she did call him, she was met with his voicemail box. 

 

_Your love lifts me up like helium_

_Your love lifts me up when I’m down, down, down_

_When I’ve hit the ground, you’re all I need_

 

2010

It had taken them so much to get here, the 2010 Olympics in their home country. Their relationship, while strained, still had remnants of the love and trust they had for one another prior to their two-month hiatus. Their on-ice connection was the easy part, getting into characters and matching the emotions drilled into them by the coaches and team members. 

That’s dynamic is what got them to the rink they were now breathing heavily on, the cheers of fellow Canadians loud and proud as their music fades out. “Thank you so much,” Tessa hears him say and she feels her heart soar.

She’s not exactly sure why he’s thanking her but she hears that familiar genuine, loving tone that she hadn’t heard much of within the training months. They pull back from their embrace and just stare at one another, eyes full of happiness and love that seem to be evident to everyone except the two beholders.

“Look around and take it in, kiddo” he continues, “you worked hard for this.”

“ _We_ did,” she says with a smile before pulling him into another hug. 

And that’s when she knows they’re gonna be okay.

 

_And if you let go, I’ll float towards the sun_   
****

_I’m stronger ‘cause you fill me up_

_But when the fear comes and I drift towards the ground_

_I am lucky that you’re around_

 

2013 

She had barely felt the pain, far too excited and anxious to perform their Carmen routine at the Four Continents Championship. This really grew to become one of her favorites, in love with the first half’s music and overall turnout. Ironically, it was after that part where she felt herself losing it. Her shins were beginning to burn and she just wanted to scream, this couldn’t be happening here and now.

She tried to focus on the music and Scott’s touch and not the hundreds of people at risk of witnessing her fail. The burning and pain only intensified and she knew Scott was catching on, mumbling a cautious, “Tess,” under his breath.

He didn’t want her to push herself and was now even more cautious, which is how he caught her breathy, “Scott, wait.”

He steadied her and placed his hand on her leg instinctively and feeling her dejected sigh. “I’m so sorry.”

“Don’t do that, T,” he scolds, tightening his hold on her two hands, “it’ll be okay.” 

They part ways for a few moments before meeting with Marina and then they’re off again, the music starting from where they take off. For those remaining two minutes, Scott talks her through the entire dance.

“Are you good?”

“You got this, T.”

“30 more seconds, you’re doing great.” 

She finishes the routine and he can tell her smile is a bit fake, feeling his heart sink at the fact she’s already blaming herself for their unknown score. He wishes the judges would see that her working through the pain and trying again would be seen as a strength opposed to a weakness and something that should take away from the score. 

While she ices her shins that night, she looks next to her where Scott is cleaning up their late dinner and has never felt more grateful. 


End file.
